Living A Lie
by Le1a Naberr1e
Summary: After the forbidden wedding, the reality of living a lie hits the Skywalkers. Clone Wars short story.
1. In The Presence of All Gathered Here

_**Author's Note**: I think I need to explain things a little. I hate unfinished stories! I hate them even more when they're mine! So __I decided to just finish this guy once and for all. The last chapters are already written and being edited. They should be up tomorrow._

_If you read this story before you may need to re-read the first chapters, not only because it's been a looooong time since it was last updated, but also because I moved some scenes around for continuity reasons._

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Star Wars, or its characters, and I am unfortunately not making any money out of this story. The real reward is the feedback. g

* * *

**LIVING A LIE**

_This story takes place within the time frame of the Clone Wars cartoon series. The first chapter occurs after the scene between the Jedi and Palpatine in the Chancellor's office._

**Chapter 1, In The Presence of All Gathered Here**

**

* * *

**

_Senate Rotunda_

The meeting concluded, equally satisfactorily and unsatisfactorily for all the parties involved, the three Jedi took their leave from the Chancellor and exited the spacious offices.

The Sith Lord kept an eye on their passage through the Senate building long after the sliding panels had shut them from his physical view.

The young Jedi Master took the lead, his steps deliberate and graceful and his thoughts consumed with strong feelings of misgiving. His Padawan learner strolled lightly a half-step behind him, his head in the clouds and his feet almost walking on them. He was not oblivious to his Master's despondency but he was determined to ignore them. The last of the trio, a diminutive, ancient Jedi Councilor, floated with dignity on his hover-couch and observed to two in front of him, pensively.

The journey from Senate building to Jedi Temple was taken on foot. The network of walkways and automated crossings for pedestrians in the city planet connected the dual seats of power in a single straight path. The silence of the journey was broken only once when at the approach of the Senate doors, the young Padawan dropped out of his euphoric state to ask his Masters of a mundane request.

"May I use this opportunity to pay a short visit to Senator Amidala?" The request was made with the utmost politeness and casualness.

The young Master paused in mid-step and faced his Padawan. "Is the Senator expecting you, Anakin?"

"No," replied the apprentice, still casual. "But when I left her in Naboo she insisted that I could see her whenever the opportunity availed itself."

"Was there a purpose behind the invitation, Anakin?" the Councilor's hover chair came to float between the two men so he could observe the conversation more attentively.

"N… not particularly, Master," the apprentice replied, his façade shaking a bit under the scrutiny.

"Then, I'm sure she will not be disappointed if you pass up this opportunity until the next one," said the Master firmly.

The turbo-lifts opened and he stepped inside, the hover chair floated in right behind him. He was about to operate the down lever when he realized that his apprentice was still standing just outside the lift.

The apprentice's mental shields were up and the expression on his face closed. He was as blank as a drawing board and the Master felt a strange revulsion rise up in him against his apprentice.

"Anakin?" he asked sharply.

The Padawan looked at his Master a moment longer with shuttered eyes. Then obediently, he stepped into the lift.

The Sith Master smiled in the privacy of his chambers, a wide shark-like smile that was utterly incongruous with the façade of the Chancellor. He COM's his aide and gave some specific instructions, instructions that would further instigate the events that he had just set in motion. Then he returned to his desk and went back to the grueling task of conducting both sides of a galactic civil war.

**_TBC_**


	2. To Be Lawfully Wedded

**Living A Lie**

**Chapter 2, To Be Lawfully Wedded**

**

* * *

**_Office of the Naboo Delegation, Senate Rotunda_

_We'd be living a lie. I couldn't do that, could you?_

"Well, Anakin, I am learning fast."

"Mesa pardon my lady?"

Padmé looked up from the surface of the conference table to the concerned Gungan face staring at her. "Nothing, Jar Jar," she said, "I was only thinking out loud."

"Yousa not look too good, mylady. Maybe yousa take day off."

"No!" she said firmly. Jar Jar was taken aback; then he turned back to the datapads he was studying.

"I'm sorry for shouting, Jar Jar," Padmé said, contrite. "I overreacted."

Jar Jar mumbled something in reply without lifting his face from his work. He was obviously still hurt which was odd for Jar Jar. Padmé felt that she knew why but she could not just bring herself to remember now. So she just shrugged mentally and turned to the sheaves of parchment that she was supposed to be studying for the next senate session. She had not turned a page since she opened it half an hour ago.

Her mind was not on her work. It was on her husband.

Husband. She had barely seen him since he had left her at Naboo to return to his responsibilities at Coruscant. For the first time since she had taken up her responsibilities of Galactic Senator, Padmé had not longed to prolong her short stay at home. Instead, although outwardly she had been attentive during long council and private meetings with the Queen and her cabinet, and she had been diligent with her affairs in her office in Theed and devoted at home with her parents (Sola, thankfully, had returned home with her daughters), internally, she had been loathing every minute of her stay in Naboo; her beautiful world that filled her with so much joy and dedication repulsed her. It was as if when Anakin left, he had taken with him her pleasure in the simplest of things. It had been a constant act of will to get up each morning and get through her day knowing fully well that when she woke up he would not beside her and that there was no chance of seeing him or communicating with him during the day. Their time together had been so brief- it was barely a month ago when her only mental image of him was the poignant recollection of the little Tatooine slave but now he was so insinuated into her existence that she felt like if she had never – and could never – be without him. It was as if all this while she had been a prisoner and Anakin had come and freed her and she had tasted the sweet sense of freedom, only for him to leave but not before locking her back in her cage. It might have been better not to have ever been freed than to have known it and had it taken from you.

Her stay in Naboo had seemed interminable but really it had been very brief. In less than a week, she was en route to Alderaan to attend a meeting of the Loyalist Committee on their position during the ongoing Wars. Then she was in Malastare, campaigning against a bill that placed embargoes on refugee transport exiting from Separatist systems. Then she was back in Coruscant, pitching her case to the ad hoc committee set up by Chancellor Palpatine to deal with matters of 'secondary importance' to the Senate because with the new emergency powers of the Chancellor, issues concerning the Clone Wars – including the placement of embargoes on refuge ships – were vetoed directly by the Chancellor and at the same time, he was too busy to deal with most of these matters directly so he had delegated some authority to a committee of selected advisors to do so. Some of the advisors had been Jedi Masters.

The moment she arrived on Coruscant, she had sent out her feelers for Anakin – where he was, what he was doing. Padmé Amidala had gained a new respect for the Jedi. When they wanted their operations – and their whereabouts to be kept secret, they succeeded. All her spies had been able to find out was that Master Kenobi and his apprentice were sent on assignment off-world. Where? For how long? In relation to what and most especially for how long? – were questions to which they could give no answers. She had tried using her skills on the numerous Jedi that suddenly seemed to populate the Senate – there was a time not so long ago that she had noted their number without any marked interest, now the swish of a brown cloak, the twist of a braid made her heart jump in her body – but nobody could be persuaded to part with information about Kenobi or his apprentice. After a while, for fear of conspicuousness, she had ended all inquiries. After all, he should be able to contact her.

But he had not.

"It's time to go," Jar Jar said.

Padmé fell out of her reverie and glanced at the chrono in alarm. Hours had passed since they sat at this table. She looked down at the notes that she had not even glanced through.

This was an impossible situation.

She followed Jar Jar into the Senate Hall and perused the notes carefully while the Bill was argued. Jar Jar was surprised that Padmé did not speak up during the session because the matter concerned the taxation of refugee transport and it was a matter close to her heart. It was only Bail Organa's call just before the matter was put to vote that saved Padmé from voting for the wrong constituency.

Still heavily distracted, Padmé rounded up her day in the office as quickly as possible and left.

**_TBC_**


	3. For Better and For Worse

**LIVING A LIE**

**III**

_Jedi Temple_

Anakin had been unable to shake Obi-Wan off all day. His Master's stern presence had hovered over him almost as if Obi-Wan suspected his Padawa's intentions and was trying to thwart them.

When night finally came and the Jedi Master was forced to retire into his own private chambers, Anakin breathed a sigh of relief, and not just because his patience had been stretched thin. If he had borne just one more of Obi-Wan's suspicions, interfering glances, he believed he would have strangled his Master.

Anakin waited a few impossible seconds to sense his Master's somnolence, then quickly dressed. He had retired early in an effort to shake off his Master.

He climbed out of the window of his room in the Jedi Temple and made his way down to the plaza in front. Anybody that might have looked up by chance at that point in time would have seen nothing. He was cloaked in darkness in more ways than one.

He landed lightly at the edge of the plaza and took off on feet. He could have conveniently taken a speeder but where would have been the fun in that?

_500 Republica_

Contrary to what most people might assume, Padmé Amidala knew her way round the small kitchen of the official apartment. It was small by necessity because most of the time, food was either ordered from the elaborate restaurants contained within the building or consumed at work at neighbouring cafes around the Senate building or at more exotic places during not-all-trivial social gatherings. A few of her staff used it occasionally: Dormé, for one, insisted on cooking traditional meals whenever she could; but most of them had accepted Coruscant's multi-ethnic cuisine.

Padmé lit the lily dish on the flame and searched for the wild oshii flowers in the cabinets. They were running low in supply. It was strange of Dormé not to have spotted that earlier, especially as she knew how therapeutic Padmé found cooking them. Padmé finished spraying the ground flowers with water and placed them on the burner. Almost immediately, the strong aroma filled her nostrils and her head cleared momentarily.

Still there was a soft pressure of tears in her throat as she lay down in her bed, her arms immediately curling around the empty space that only her husband could feel.

**_TBC_**


	4. In Sickness and in Health

**Living A Lie**

**Chapter 4, In Sickness and in Health**

_Ambassadorial District_

The routes in Coruscant were best suited for air travel but there was a complicated maze of walkways and turbolists that connected all but the most secure buildings in the city planet. The route Anakin followed was a complex join of lifts and corridors and paths through public arenas but he knew it so well that he could have walked it in his sleep. Instead he ran with super-human speed, passing pedestrians like a wind-causing shadow. When he finally reached the restricted Ambassadorial District, he slipped into the Alderaan Private Botanical Park, shimmied his way up a riser and jumped to the nearest low-rise building. He landed on his feet and quick as a wildcat, he was running across the roof. After that, the rest of the journey was a series of runs and jumps as he made his way to the centre of the District, climbing steadily from one elevation to another. He finally reached the high roof 500 Republica and he shimmied his way down the building, finding impossible footholds and handholds in the smooth durasteel wall until he was peering down at the balcony that opened out of the apartment of the Naboo Senator. He made one last drop and then he straightened up to stare at the transparisteel before him. He nudged the closed blinds with his thoughts and they opened before him. He slipped through the open window and stepped into the darkness of the room.

Anakin almost did not make it to his wife's side. No sooner had he landed on the balls of his feet, than a shrill beep came from the corner of the room and the click of a blaster being set filled his ears.

He had barely tucked into the roll before the laser hurtled towards him, missing the tip of his ear by micro-meters.

The bright beam tracked him as he rolled across the room.

"Don't move!" His wife's voice had never sounded deadlier. Nor had he realized how deadly her aim was.

_Don't move? Why? So I can be a sitting duck? _He wondered, still rolling. He came to a stop behind the tall column where she hung her cloaks, and never was he so grateful to Naboo fashion and architecture. The laser beam bounced off the edges.

Not quite catching his breath, he bellowed: "Padmé, how are you going to explain my corpse if it's found it in your room!"

There was a sharp gasp. "Anakin?"

"Not quite. Your other husband. Will you stop shooting?"

Padmé gasped again, and the barrage of missiles stopped. He felt strangely bereft. Apparently, near-assassination-by-wife scenarios were disturbingly sexy.

"Anakin!" she cried again, and his heart tightened at the wonderful mixture of surprise and joy and horror. He could hear her getting to her feet – did she sleep with a blaster under her pillow? – and he wanted nothing more than to run to her arms but…

"My lady!"

Dormé burst into the room, blaster drawn and ready to shoot.

For a moment all three were frozen. Padmé in her white gown, poised on the balls of her feet, one hand still holding a blaster, even though her arms were wide open. Anakin, peering cautiously around the column, and Dormé, weapon arm outstretched and pointed dangerously at Anakin's head.

Dormé broke the silence first. "Jedi Skywalker!"

The spell shattered and Padmé dashed to the handmaiden, pushing away the weapon. "Keep that thing away!"

"My lady… I heard shots…"

From beyond the door, there was the sound of running steps.

Padmé spun to stare at her husband with desperate eyes. "Captain Typho… the security detail…" She felt faint. If anyone were to find Anakin here…

Anakin seemed to have read her mind perfectly. With one quick nod, he moved. Fast. One moment, he was standing by the column. The next, one leg was loped over the edge of her window. "Excuse me, ladies."

He jumped.

A heartbeat later, the two women screamed.

TBC


	5. To Love and to Cherish

**Living A Lie**

**Chapter 5, To Love and to Cherish**

_Senator Amidala's Chambers, Ambassadorial District _

The view from underneath the ledge of Padmé's window was fantastic, a sheer drop hundreds of metres from the ground level of 500 Republica. Which meant some further thousands of metres from the actual planet surface. As Anakin waited for the small commotion in Padmé's room to desist, he absent mindedly swatted away the security droids that came buzzing in his direction while deeply considering testing his theory of Force-empowered flight. Once, he had argued with Obi-Wan that Jedi could fly; all they needed was faith and nerve. Perhaps…

"Psst… Anakin! Anakin!"

Perhaps another time.

"Anakin!"

"A little louder Padmé and I'm sure Dormé will come zooming back with her blaster."

Padmé giggled as her husband, with one swing, propelled himself from beneath her window and into her room.

He came to stand before her and she regarded his long, lean frame hungrily. He regarded her petite, curvaceous, skimpy night-shift clad frame with equal lust.

"You. Me. Bed," she declared. Then she flew into his arms.

The embrace shifted into a deep kiss, then an even deeper one, and her feet left the ground as, ever the obedient husband, Anakin made their cojoined way to the moon-bathed bed.

Later on, Padmé rested happily on what she now regarded as her side of the bed, playing with her husband's hair. Anakin's head lay against her stomach, his eyes were half-closed, and a satisfied grin smirked on his face. Every now and then, he'd raise his chin and his teeth would nip the smooth expanse of flesh so seductively within reach.

"I thought they'd never leave," she moaned, remembering the rude interruption of her handmaiden and security detail. Seconds after Anakin's dramatic exit, the security detail had burst into her chambers without invitation. The formerly dim room blazed with light as the sensor lamps came on, and the yellow glow glinted off the sleek metal blasters. It had taken a full hour to persuade Typho that Padmé's blaster had only malfunctioned and that there was really no need for them to check the periphery. She still hadn't quite decided how she would explain everything to Dormé.

"They'd never have come if you hadn't shot at me," he grumbled, his voice causing tiny tremors beneath her skin.

Padmé coloured. "Well, I didn't know it was you, did I? What do you suggest I do next time a strange man comes creeping through my win-Ow!" For at her words, his teeth had bitten down especially hard.

"Sorry," he said, not sounding in the least.

"'tis okay," she said softly, weaving her fingers through the rough strands. Casually, she tightened her fist, slowly pulling his hair until he caught on and yelped.

"Yes, dear Husband?'' she asked innocently, not loosening her grip in the least.

He rolled his eyes, an effect that was completely wasted on her as his face was still resting contentedly against her. He toyed with the idea of pacifying her by letting her know how sexy he had found her misguided assassination attempt; but at that moment, her body shifted, bringing all that skin even closer to him and he was … distracted.

Soon enough, their caresses became gentler, his every breath a kiss, her hands now running gently through his hair, memorizing the feel of the strands against her fingers, the way the night lights glinted against them, the long dark curve of his brow, the sweet repose of his chin… She sought out the little details greedily, desperately, knowing that she would soon be returning to them for comfort.

He sighed.

"What is it?" Padmé whispered, the words forcing themselves out of the lump in her throat.

He didn't reply with words, just turned their bodies around until she was in his, cradled against the world. She clutched him desperately. The scent of oshii filled her nostrils. The memory of loneliness was waiting at the window.

"I don't want the morning to c-" she began and Anakin shushed her.

"Not yet," he said and she knew he was speaking about goodbyes. "Not yet, please."

She closed her eyes tightly against his chest, against the tears that still slipped through.

TBC


	6. According to Holy Ordinance

**Living A Lie**

**Chapter 6, According to Holy Ordinance**

* * *

_Master Obi-Wan's Quarters, the Jedi Temple_

Anakin arrived at the Temple well before the time for their departure. He managed to avoid as much contact as possible. His memory of Padmé was a bubble of happiness in his soul, rimmed with resentment at the Order at large. His punctuality had cost him the sight of Padmé's eyes as she woke up in his arms.

Obi-Wan's disapproving gaze was a mockery of a substitute. There was no escaping the Jedi Master. Without preamble, he launched his attack the moment Anakin stepped into their shared chambers.

"Where were you last night, Padawan?"

Anakin felt the bubble tremble.

"I went for a walk, to clear my head." The Padawan's clear blue eyes looked everywhere but into his Master's gaze.

"A very long walk."

"My head needed a lot of clearing," Anakin said coolly.

"You were upset? And why, my young apprentice?"

This time, Anakin did look at Obi-Wan and his eyes were furious. "You've so soon forgotten how you humiliated me in front of the Chancellor, then Master Yoda yesterday?"

Obi-Wan started in surprise. "You're still brooding about _that_?"

"Forgive me, Master. I am to blame for letting my feelings get in the way of your reprimands."

"I won't take that sarcastic tone of voice from you, my very young Padawan," Obi-Wan snapped.

Anakin bowed his head, his angry glare now directed to the floor. "Sorry, Master," he said automatically and insincerely.

In front of him, Obi-Wan was inhaling sharply and Anakin mentally steeled himself for the long lecture that was about to follow. As was his usual practice, he raised his shields and deliberately targeted his mind towards a distraction. In the past, it would be a speeder or droid he was tinkling on. Now the image that rose in his mind was a great deal more organic.

Padmé.

Beautiful Padmé.

Sweet, gentle Padmé.

Fierce, fearsome Padmé.

The memory of his wife filled his senses. Padmé in her demure white night-cloth, her hair in two chaste plaits down her back, a steely glint in her eye and a firing blaster in her hand. The fact that the blaster had been trained on him at that time made it all the more appealing.

Padmé's husband sighed deeply and failed to notice that Master Obi-Wan had stopped speaking.

"Padawan!"

Startled out of his reverie, Anakin looked into his Master's frustrated gaze and said on cue, "I promise to do better, Master."

And he meant it. Not for Obi-Wan as it had been in the past - Anakin was fast realizing that nothing he could do might ever please his Master - and not, he thought sadly, for his Mother. Not any longer.

For Padmé. In her eyes, he saw himself as she saw him - her beloved. The bubble ballooned within him and he felt as light as air. He was flying. Soaring.

He would be a hero for Padmé.

He didn't hear his Master's sad sigh nor did he see the worried frown on Obi-Wan's face as he led the way to the Temple hangar.

--

When Padmé woke, he was gone. The space where he had been was so cold that the whole night might well have just been a wonderful, precious but impossible dream.

Her heart burst into tears.

There was a discreet knock on the door.

"Come in, Dormé," Padmé said with almost-perfect composure. If her voice quavered a little, she chose not to dwell on it.

Nor did she dwell on the quick glance Dormé gave to the bed before she turning a respectful gaze to her mistress. "Good day Milady. We need to revise your schedule. Senator Organa's office called to cancel his appointment this morning. I took the liberty of contacting Senator Ask's office for an earlier hour…"

Padmé listened patiently to the timetable, voicing agreements and objections where necessary, and placing demands as they arose. And if on occasion, a sad gaze filled her eyes, or a deep blush rose in her cheeks or a wicked smile graced her lips, then certainly, neither she nor her handmaiden commented on it.

**To Be Concluded**


	7. Til Death Do Us Part

**Living A Lie**

**Chapter 6, Till Death Do Us Part**

* * *

_The Senate Rotunda_

The Senate was particularly rowdy this morning. Legislators had been evenly divided on either side of the Bill of Taxation of Refugee Transport Vessels since it had been raised and after weeks of stern debate, there were no signs of a concession.

The opinions on both sides were equally compelling. The Left-Wing argued the Bill would discourage the transport lines that only provided their services to the Refugee Movement as an act of charity. Taxation would stifle the quantity of ships they supplied and leave thousands of refugees stranded. The Right-wing believed that most of the 'transports' were vessels belonging to smugglers, pirates, and other crime syndicates who used a handful of refugees as cover for their more nefarious cargo.

Later on, a holo-reporter would describe how the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic had looked down on the divided lawmakers with a heavy gaze, the lines of strain and disappointment stark on his face as once again, the Senators of the Republic showed how incapable they were of setting aside their differences and uniting towards a common purpose. The reporter would describe how his shoulders fell as time and time again, he tried – and failed – to call the House to order. They would describe how he was temporarily distracted by the Jedi emissary who whispered into his ear, and how the light in his eyes dulled even further as he received the message. When the Chancellor finally rose to call for a recess, his formerly buoyant figure stooped and frail with age and care, the holo-reporter was near tears, and so was half of the populace who had read the report.

''

_En route to the Coruscant Military Zone One_

The Jedi emissary had informed him that the fleet of Republic warships were assembled of the mission in Muunilinst. Led by his aides and Red Guards, Chancellor Palpatine made his weary way towards the Military Base where he would watch them leave.

As Fighter One lifted off from the high security-landing pad, Darth Sidious was all but bouncing in his seat.

As always it had been a delight to sit amidst the fighting hounds of the Senate. The occasional prodding of dark energy was merely a catalyst to their innate discord. This morning's session was especially amusing as he was treated to the site of the Senator of Naboo in full form, the likes of which she had not been for some months, as she argued fervently against the Bill, raising passions on either side and deepening the divide in the House.

Apparently, Skywalker had succeeded in paying her that visit after all. And since she seemed cured of the apathy that Palpatine had observed in her for some time, then the visit between her and Skywalker must have been conjugal.

Sidious smirked as Palpatine turned worried eyes to the viewport as the Fighter circled the classified landmark and dipped into the entrance tunnel.

When he was younger, Palpatine had sampled the sentient weakness that was euphemized as 'love'. He was surprised at his own disappointment in it. The passion that drove so many sentients to great acts of creativity and destruction had proven to be a shallow pool compared the deep, bottomless well of power that was the Dark Side of the Force.

In good time, the Chosen One would learn that, as well.

_However,_ Sidious decided as Palpatine was helped out of Fighter One and was welcomed by a group of Jedi Masters, _what these lesser ones call __'Love' is a very powerful tool of the Dark Side. One day, Skywalker will see the humor in that._

"Chancellor," Master Windu's bald pate shown as he bowed deeply, "the Republic awaits your orders."

Palpatine sighed and Sidious smiled. _As it should. __As it should._

''

_500 Republica_

Padmé had almost kept the cloak. What was his was hers after all and though a weak substitute, it was all she had of her husband's.

But in the end, sanity prevailed and she had sent Threepio ahead with it. During the Senate recess when the droid finally returned, its screeching joints making less noise than its vocal complaints, she breathed a sigh of relief. Artoo would have been her first choice but he didn't have the appendages to deliver the item. Dormé was out of the question.

Later on, Padmé would find out that that decision almost cost her and Anakin their precious lie.

''

_Jedi Temple_

Obi-Wan's sharp eyes had narrowed at the droid waiting for Anakin. "Don't I know you from somewhere?" he asked.

Threepio perked up. Although Mistress Padmé had given him stern orders not to disclose the sender of the cloak, she had said nothing about mentioning _his_ own origins. "Well, I surely don't recall but perhaps if you have had an opportunity to venture towards the Outer-"

Anakin burst into the waiting room, almost gasping. "Master Obi-Wan, Master Yoda wants to speak to you!"

Obi-Wan stared, startled – and suspicious at once. "He does?"

"Right Now!" shouted Anakin.

The Master's lips thinned at his Padawan's blatant rudeness but he couldn't risk offending the Jedi Master. As it turned out, Yoda did have cause to speak to Obi-Wan although he did not directly ask for him. Anakin managed to usher Threepio out without further incident. By the time, Obi-Wan returned, he was too precoccupied with nagging his apprentice about the mission to remember the droid.

''

_Military Zone One_

The cloak was now bundled up in Anakin's survival kit as he strapped himself into his customized craft and slipped on the headpiece. With one ear, he listened to the Chancellor's rousing speech. With the other, he recollected the vows he and Padmé had shared what now seemed so long ago during a Naboo sunset.

Not for the first time, the sober reality of war hit him.

This mission might be the one he would not return from. Last night might be the last time he would ever hold her in his arms, ever claim her as his wife. Their love, their marriage would be an empty secret that she would carry to her grave and he to his death.

The Chancellor had finished speaking. There was the customary pause during the soldiers were given the option to voluntarily turn from battle.

In all of Republic history, from the Sith Wars to now, no soldier had ever taken up that option.

For one wild crazy moment, Anakin thought of setting the precedent.

He thought of jumping out of this cockpit, dropping his lightsabre in Obi-Wan's hands, running as fast as his Force-enhanced speed could take him to Padmé's arms _– _

_– _and never ever leaving.

In that wild moment, he looked around. A thousand helmeted clones humming oddly in the Force only seemed to buttress his decision. Master Obi-Wan was nowhere in sight but judging from his recent scolding, his Master would be more relieved than disappointed at Anakin's desertion.

Anakin stared up at the podium, where the Jedi Masters _– _

_(Yoda and Mace would probably open the wine bottles)_

_– _and the Senators waited. He looked at Bail Organa's grim features, at Mas Amedda's impassionate face _– _

_(Who was he to them but one more pawn in the politicians' never-ending battle for influence?)_

– and then at the Chancellor. Palpatine's blue eyes were staring straight at Anakin with a look of utter dissapointment.

Anakin shivered. It was as if Palpatine already knew – had already seen Anakin's desertion.

Anakin looked away but he could not run from his thoughts.

Palpatine – Padmé's icon and mentor. Palpatine who had taken the ex-slave from Tatooine under his wing and tried harder to be father than his own Master.

Like cold water, shame splashed against his senses and the moment of madness passed.

It was only a moment.

The clarion call was sounded. Automatically, Anakin's hands found the controls and his customized starfighter's repulsors fired. The craft lifted from the landing pad in the Military Base and a thousand clone starfighters lifted in tandem. The sky roof shifted and in perfect synchrony, the fighters filled the Coruscant sky-lanes. Slowly, they made the sweep around the Senatorial District, their salute to the citizens of Coruscant. The heavier war-ships would ascend straight into the stratosphere.

Anakin was aware that thousands of beings were looking up at his fleet, staring at them with wonder and with hope. It was laughable how happy he had been at being named the Commander of the Air Attack only a day ago. Now he felt nothing other than the weight of duty on his shoulders and the burden of apathy in his heart.

In a literal flight of daring, he turned the nose of his Jedi starfighter until he was rising along a certain view of the 500 Republica. And as he had half-hoped, half-expected, the one spectator that mattered was waiting for him.

His fighter hovered in mid-air as he drank in her fill of her.

Padmé's face was even more beautiful than it had been the night before. Her large eyes were so filled with emotion that they surely betrayed her to the most unsuspecting un-looker. Her lips parted but she didn't say anything – just breathed out her love, her anxiety, and her deep, deep sorrow. Softly, one hand pressed against the glass and he caught it with the image of his own.

Life filled his veins. His passion returned.

He would fight. He would win. He would bring peace to the Republic. And he would return to her.

And that day, there would be no need to hide anymore. On that day, there would be no more need for lies.

One day.

''

_Marriage Blessing of the Apaches._

_Now you will feel no rain, for each of you will be shelter for the other. _

_Now you will feel no cold, for each of you will be warmth to the other. _

_Now there will be no loneliness, for each of you will be companion to the other. _

_Now you are two persons, but there is only one life before you. _

_May beauty surround you both in the journey ahead and through all the years, _

_May happiness be your companion and your days together be good and long upon the earth._

**

* * *

****The End**

_Thanks to everyone who's ever reviewed on this story: **REV042175, Padawan Sydney Bristow, liz, Paula Anka, Summer's Sun, Naberrie Skyler, r0ck3tsci3ntist, Padakin, Ann Jinn, fialleril, Li-Li-ThePinkbookgirl, arthi kamala sivakumar,** and **Rya Likao.** Your kind feedback and encouragement made all the difference. I'm so glad you enjoyed the story and I hope to see you in any other of my stories. Until then... _

_Au revoir. _


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